This afternoon, I spent my lunch hour visiting Viv's therapist. For half an hour I sat in a cozy muted-toned office, watching a bobbed blonde write furiously into her notepad.
God, I must be really abnormal, I'm thinking as she shakes her head when I describe that I'm not the therapy type.
The she asked The Question: "What do you fear the most in your life?"
I thought for a second. "Um... I don't know."
She shook her head in an understanding way. "You have to think about the question for more than a second. Really think."
"I think I fear...loneliness. No, wait! I fear dependence." But I already knew this.
After our time, I hailed a cab back to work, where I proceeded to make a list of my fears. Then I became afraid that I was afraid of everything. I think this is what therapy does to you -- it makes you afraid; afraid that you are abnormal, and that you can't function without therapy. If you're afraid, then you need therapy.
It made me feel so icky.
Viv thinks I should go back. I don't.
What do you think?